…why I want to marry my Dyson
A few weekends ago, when we began moving into our new place, we realised that we would soon be without a vacuum.
This was an unsettling realisation.
Oh, did we find a vacuum!
We had always be in interested becoming the proud owners of a Dyson. We had heard the stories of how powerful they were, admired the intricate design when meandering small-appliance departments and been envious of people with sales assistants who were making the commitment we so desperately wanted to make.
We decided to go with the allergy model. I’m not exactly sure what that means, although it comes with a mattress-cleaning tool, which made me almost faint from joy.
“Imagine the gunk that could come out of our mattress? I’m talking skin that has built up for years…i-ma-gine.”
Upon arriving home with our impulse bought steam mop, we hastily unpacked the vacuum and prepared it for it’s maiden voyage.
Unlike the Titanic, this moment wasn’t an utter disaster.
It is safe to say that I never knew true (electronic) beauty till this moment.
The Dyson got to work on the allegedly professional cleaned floors of our new place and I got to work on the camera…taking photos of this monumental moment.
After the initial vacuum, my partner emptied out the nearly full dust bin and it was my turn to re-do the floors, as my sister and fellow Dyson owner Sarah advised, to see how much more filth our Dyson could find.
I would liken a Dyson to the dogs they use in Europe to find truffles. Whilst any normal dog would roam across the land finding nothing, the Dyson scours the ground thoroughly, clearing the ground of every last piece of filth…or truffles if you’re still on the dogs.
So why do I want to marry our Dyson? It is as perfect an appliance, as you will ever find.
Did I mention that we only have one carpeted room? Don’t worry, it wasn’t extravagant…it came with a hard floor tool.
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